Chapter 7: Cult of the forgotten ones
In a sanctuary for the helpless, a robed man stood at the podium. Dressed in white robes, he continued to herd his sheep, delivering his scriptures.
The benches were full, each one of them listening to the man’s teachings. From the elderly to the young, the ages ranged. They found comfort in his words. At least here, they could be seen, heard, and cared for. And once and for all, after today’s ceremony, they would be able to be grazed by the divine.
"Your suffering wasn’t for nothing," the gentle-looking man spoke with an almost healing voice, one that soothed the souls of all who heard it.
"Today is the day we receive our delivery..."
He gazed toward the window as he contemplated something.
"The blood moon is upon us. All of your suffering and pain will not be forgotten. The blood moon will call upon the forgotten ones, and you will be rewarded for it."
He turned toward a carefully placed tarp and, with a dramatic flourish, revealed what lay beneath. A carefully designed altar stood before them. It looked almost like a reverential throne.
"This is where the Forgotten One will descend tonight. But first, for our final sacrifice..."
The man took a metal bowl filled with water, a stainless knife resting within it, then passed it to one of his ushers.
"A book will be passed around. For all of you, make sure to write your names, then slice your hands to form your stigmata and let the blood spill into the water. This will be the mark of your stigmata.
"Once you are done, focus on all the suffering in your life—be it hunger, disease, pain, or all things that have brought upon you despair and suffering. All your sorrows."
As he said this, a gloomy, almost tangible sorrowful atmosphere fell upon the church.
"Then pray. Pray for your names. Pray for your souls. Pray for your salvation. Pray not to be forgotten."
The slow cacophony of whispered prayers gradually began to fill the area as the whole church slowly drowned in supplication, tears spilling from many of them.
Finally, the knife returned to the man at the podium, and he too did as he had instructed. Whispering his own prayer. His own pain guiding his own supplication.
When he was finished, he presented the blood to the altar alongside the book of names.
"For the final step, we will need to be cleansed by holiness."
The moment he spoke those words, his ushers began pouring gasoline around the area. Then a match was lit, and the fire began.
Yet even through all of this, the members continued praying.
Salvation was coming.
-----
Dan Woo was back in the endless mist, refusing to put on the all-consuming mask of Lee Woo Je.
Yet even without wearing it, he didn’t feel any pain, suffering, or the stirring need to put it back on. In fact, he felt more at home without it.
Yet his apartment was still a swirling, endless mist.
He turned back to his memories of the day.
His sister in this world was still alive.
He couldn’t believe it.
As he remembered, in his own world his sister had died a terrible death while she still had so much left to discover.
Yes, he had written his sister in as a way to remember her, but he wasn’t sure if that would stay true, as the world wasn’t a complete one-to-one with his story. Sure, things like him being an actor still stood true, but everything else seemed out of order.
He had written his sister in as a world-class violinist, following her dreams from when she was still alive.
Yet here she was—a writer.
He had written his wife, or rather ex-wife, Han Soo Hee, as a main character. A way to let her live through his own dreams of being a writer. For all kinds of things, with her stories able to change her world.
He had even written eternal family members for her, people who would never let her be lonely, as his own wife had always wished to have been more than an orphan.
Yet that wasn’t proven either.
The Dreamers?
His thoughts lingered on those specific entities.
Could that be his main character?
No.
That couldn’t be... could it?
His main character was a university student who dreamt of becoming a famous novelist, not an eldritch being that lived within dreams.
But then again, he couldn’t be sure.
Maybe that truly was her.
He felt that he still needed to learn more.
If only he could get a visit from these so-called Dreamers.
As he thought through this, he felt the entirety of his mist domain tremble.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
He heard the sound of knocking coming from his left.
He turned to face the door to his left, yet it seemed to be several metres away. He began walking towards it.
He continued walking, yet it seemed the distance between him and the door was never being covered. No matter how much he walked, it remained just as far away as before.
Finally, he stopped in frustration after seeing his efforts produce nothing.
He was tired.
Maybe he could just go to sleep. Tomorrow was another day.
If only he had a bed.
The moment he thought of this, a mass of grey-turned-red mist coalesced in front of him, forming the shape of a bed before fully materializing.
A bed.
Dan Woo was confused by the sudden appearance of it.
He moved closer to check the bed, making sure it was real.
And indeed, it was.
Soft, tangible, and ready to lull anyone to sleep.
Could I be the one that made this happen?
His confusion turned to amazement.
He immediately tried to replicate the feat to see if he could manipulate the mist into forming new things.
His first thought was of his desk from the real world.
Soon enough, a desk appeared before him, its wooden scent filling his senses as he ran his hands along its smooth surface. Even the knock he gave it felt right.
It truly was his desk.
Seeing that he could create something as simple as a desk, what about a house?
He concentrated harder, trying to conjure the entirety of his home.
Soon enough, the grey mist churned around him as it began to coalesce, bright red, blue, and purple colours mixing within it. Yet just as it was about to take material form, it collapsed back into grey mist.
He was confused.
Could he not shape the mist into a home?
He sighed.
Maybe he still wasn’t strong enough.
Then another thought occurred to him.
What if he only created his bedroom?
A single room wouldn’t be too much, would it?
He focused on the image of his bedroom, and the mist around him began to churn once more. After a long dance of formless shapes, it finally collapsed into his room, fully furnished with everything it once had.
And yet, even though it was identical to his former room, it still had the four doors plastered upon it.
He gazed at the four doors inquisitively.
Yet it didn’t matter.
He still had a lot to learn.
Turning away from them, he headed towards his bed.
After all, he had a long day ahead of him.
Yet just as he stepped onto the mattress—his mattress—the door on the left wall was knocked upon again.
Harder this time.
He looked at it, only to notice faint shimmering lights dancing across its surface.
This time, he walked towards it easily and opened it.
Only to see a literal cosmos on the other side.
It was as if he could see suns, stars, planets, nebulas, and all kinds of cosmic matter stretching endlessly into the distance.
Then the rumblings began.
Soft whisperings carried over by an unseen wind.
Yet these whispers weren’t enticing him or trying to control him.
They were just...
Sad?
Angry?
Resentful?
The grand cosmos began to churn and churn as everything started to collapse and compress in an inexplicable fashion before it all transformed into a sea of mirrors, each one reflecting different images in different ways.
Dan Woo stepped through, following the pleading rumblings to the other side.
Eventually, he came across a certain mirror.
Fire.
A sea of fire.
He could see countless people engulfed in flames, their voices drilling through the mirror itself.
Help.
The plea echoed endlessly.
He needed to help them.
But how?
Just as he was thinking of a way to help them—
[Ding]
[Domain Expansion Available. Would you like to claim this domain?]
[Y/N]
The screen glowed.
As it did, a huge holographic, almost ethereal shadow of a throne emerged from the screen, growing outward and hovering before him.
A Domain Expansion.
That would mean having his domain beyond his home.
Did that mean the church in flames would also fall under his domain?
If so, maybe he could use his mist to help the people trapped within the burning flames.
He immediately accepted.
[New Domain Acquired: Church of the Forgotten.]
After accepting, he suddenly felt a powerful suction force coming from the mirror as his body was pulled through it.
He passed through the mirror as if it were air, his body settling upon the throne.
The throne grew exponentially larger, bathed in bright, blinding light, while his mist spewed across the area.
The masses of people continued to pray as everything burned around them.
They looked so small to him now.
Like ants.
Yet everything remained the same.
Only now, when he looked at them, he could hear their prayers.
Their wishes.
[Ding]
[Meaning Totem Acquired: The Book of the Faithful.]
Dan Woo turned away from the torrent of information and decided to help the people who were literally trying to burn themselves alive in a nonsensical ritual.
He tried to see if he could use his mist to consume the flames, yet he found he didn’t need to.
He could control the flames directly.
The raging inferno softened and transformed into gentle mist beneath his will.
As he did so, the structure of the church also seemed to be affected, portions of it dissolving into mist as well.
The crazed people started to cheer around him, revering him with an almost fanatical fervor as he worked.
Ignoring their cries, he did his best to reestablish the church and make sure everyone was alive.
There were a few with burns, but luckily no one had been truly harmed.
After stabilizing the entirety of the church, and now possessing adequate information from both the altar and the faith of the believers, Dan Woo turned his attention to the priest-looking man.
That man had just endangered more than a hundred people.
Yet he still seemed utterly fanatical.
Dan Woo needed to prevent this from happening again.
Otherwise, who knew if these people would survive the next ritual?
"Oh Almighty One, we are blessed to receive your favor."
The white-robed man began speaking with a reverential tone as everyone, including himself, knelt before the throne.
Upon it sat an ethereal incarnation of Dan Woo, shrouded in mist and bathed in rays of almost sunlike light, towering over them all.
"May we ask for your protection as your children, having borne the mark of suffering."
Dan Woo looked at the man.
Then at the kneeling masses.
He wanted to tell them to stop all this nonsense and go back to living their lives.
Yet when he remembered their prayers—the pain, despair, and suffering conveyed within them—he knew that would not happen.
If he rejected them outright, they might simply seek another ritual.
Create another altar.
Worship another god.
So he had to bite the bullet.
He had to help them find meaning in life again.
Mark of Suffering
He remembered that plotline of his story. It was about a cult that wanted to summon an anomaly from recent meaning, something that could grant them powers through a stigmata.
He looked at the robed man. That guy definitely wouldn’t be of help in settling these brainwashed people. After all, he was too deep into it. The only best way he could think of was by using younger, far more flexible minds—easily convinced, while still ensuring they weren’t taken for granted.
He scanned the area, only to feel a sudden splitting headache. The same feeling from yesterday surged again, overwhelming him. He couldn’t maintain the form for long.
His gaze swept over the people, and he found two teenagers. He initially wanted to choose just one, but decided it would be more appropriate to use two of them—so they could keep each other in check while resisting any cohesion from scheming adults.
"You have called upon this forgotten one, and for that you are commended," a deep, warm, and divine voice echoed through the area. "Now, I grant two of you faithful ships the position of my oracles."
Dan Woo immediately channeled his meaning, letting the mist seep into the hands of the two teenagers—a boy with rough features and a girl with feminine grace, both seemingly around seventeen years old. A radiant light engulfed them as all their burns and scars began to heal. A golden mark appeared on each of their foreheads.
[Ding]
[You have given two stigmatas]
[Title: Benevolent God acquired]
The two teenagers immediately bowed in reverence, and soon everyone else followed suit.
Soon enough, he felt his body completely drained, so he broke the connection to the altar, finding himself back in his room.
[Ding]
[Tab unlocked: {Incarnations}]
[Portrayal: Average]
{Physical Embodiment: B+
Character Essence: C
Presence Consistency: B
Authenticity: C+
Transformation: B-
Evaluation: B-
Reward: Trace Divinity of one of the forgotten ones}
Dan Woo was back in his room, now holding something that looked like a paper doll in his hand—yet the paper doll seemed to be connected to the shadows of other paper dolls, as though part of a larger, unseen chain.
Turning back to his system page, he could see a new tab that wasn’t a character page, marked only with a question symbol.
He went over to his desk, eyes drifting toward the other doors. If the door to his west was the one that granted incarnation, then what did the other doors do? Could he meet the Dreamers like this?
He wasn’t sure what he was, but he definitely wasn’t an ascendant.
He sat down, writing down all the plot points he could still remember. Yet when he tried to recall more about his main character—modeled after Han Soo Hee—he hit a blank. He couldn’t remember past what he already had. Even her in-world name seemed to elude him now, slipping just out of reach.
He turned back to his counter, expecting at least a small gain in time from his performance. But instead of a reward, he saw a reduction. Not only had he gained nothing—it had decreased considerably, leaving him with barely two days from five.
He exhaled slowly.
He needed to find more characters to devour.